


Another season

by pearl_o



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1692770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The next time Charles sees Erik, Erik is walking up to his doorstep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another season

**Author's Note:**

> Extra thanks to pocky_slash, who made me write this.

It happens in early autumn, during those few strange days where the heat of summer still hangs in the air but the leaves have already begun to turn, a subtle hint of the months to come. 

They've accomplished a great deal in the months since Washington, but there's still a lot more work to be done. In the new year, Charles judges, they'll be ready to start looking for students again. This time next autumn, the house will be a school once more, and Charles will be a step closer to fulfilling his promise.

Charles is eating lunch with Hank, sandwiches in his study, when he senses a mind approaching the school; he chokes a little, as he realizes who it is, and Hank looks at him over his glasses with some concern. 

Once he's taken a sip of water and cleared his throat, Charles says, "We have a visitor." He hesitates for a moment. "Perhaps you should get back to work on the grounds in the back."

Hank is sharp enough to realize who it must be, if Charles thinks it would be better to meet with the guest alone, but though he looks annoyed, he doesn't argue.

Charles rolls himself out to the front entrance to wait, tracing Erik's steady progress towards the house. Erik's pace doesn't quicken even after he gets past the gates, even when he spots Charles; he maintains the same leisurely saunter up to the point when he stops at the bottom of the steps.

Charles looks him up and down in silence. Erik is wearing jeans, and a t-shirt advertising some rock and roll band, and a ballcap covering up short-trimmed hair. It would be an adequate disguise, perhaps, something that might allow Erik to look like any average and unnoteworthy man on the street, except for how Erik carries himself. Whether it is dignity, ego, or something else entirely Charles has never been able to determine, but as it is, he can't imagine how Erik can walk down any street without immediately being spotted for what he is.

Erik, too, is holding a small suitcase in one hand. Charles raises an eyebrow.

"What are you doing here, Erik?" he says finally.

Erik has been waiting for the question. "I need somewhere to lie low, Charles," he says. "Not for long -- a few weeks, perhaps."

Charles stares at him. 

He's not certain what emotion to feel. He's angry at Erik, of course. It would be impossible not to be angry at Erik, after the things he has done. And yet -- the anger he feels now towards Erik is a different anger than that which he carried around with him for so many years.

He's learned, now, that he can love Erik and still hate his actions; think Erik does terrible things and yet know that Erik is not a monster through and through, that the good Charles saw in him when they met was not an illusion. He can even have hope -- hope, and even faith -- that one day Erik will find his way again. 

Mostly, perhaps, what Charles feels now is _confused_. 

"Why would you come here?" Charles asks. "I don't understand how the idea would even occur to you."

"Mystique," Erik says, and oh, even just the name is still a jab in Charles's heart. Not as painful as it was before, but still tender. He has not seen Raven since Washington, either, but she has written to him twice, short notes that were all information and no hint of emotion, and of course he's read plenty of articles of events that he knows she must be responsible for. 

"I went to her first," Erik explains, not noticing or perhaps politely not acknowledging Charles's reaction. "She told me I should come here. That you would take me in."

"She said that?"

"I wasn't sure whether to believe her." Erik's gaze is as direct and disarming as it ever was. "Was she right, Charles?"

Charles squeezes his hands against the arms of his chair and swallows around the tightness in his throat. "Yes. Yes, she was right. There will always be a place for you here, Erik." 

Hank will be annoyed and angry, but that's a necessary evil. Charles won't turn away someone in need. Someone he loves.

As Erik opens his mouth to speak, Charles adds quickly, "With certain conditions, of course."

"Of course," Erik murmurs, dipping his chin in acknowledgment and the faintest bit of wry amusement. His thoughts are clear and evident: about how he doesn't have his helmet, and how he's sure Charles wouldn't hesitate to do what he needs to do enforce his laws, and a certain amount of approval and pride over Charles's returned powers and strength.

"You're damn right," Charles says. "Come on in, then, I suppose, and we'll discuss the rules."

"Over a drink?" Erik suggests, following Charles as he turns his chair and heads back to the door.

"Don't push your luck, Erik," Charles says.

Erik stays just shy of three weeks, before leaving just as suddenly as he came. He'll be back again, Charles knows, as certain as if he could see the future.


End file.
